


Snowblind

by TVateMyBrain (datsunblue)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Choking, Crying, F/M, Jon Snow knows nothing, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datsunblue/pseuds/TVateMyBrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you want it,  Jon Snow?”<br/>Another tear rolled down his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>He seems to have survived the snowstorm, but will her survive her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowblind

When he came to, he wondered first at the pain in his arms and wrists.  
Then heard the crackle of a fire nearby, which lead him to realize he was warm for the first time in gods knew how long, despite his lack of clothing. Felt fuzzy headed.

Wait. Lack of clothing?

Where was he? What was the last thing he could remember?

The snows. Nothing but blinding white. Cold that chiseled into his bones, and her, clinging to his arm. Dragging him. On and on.

But she was supposed to be his prisoner! The familiar feeling descended upon him. Self disgust. Can't even handle a girl, Jon Snow! Why couldn't you kill her when you had the chance? What was wrong with him?

He seemed to be tied to a ring, low down, in the wall of a cave. Though naked, someone had put a fur beneath him, though it was none too clean. He spotted another ring higher up the wall, and some mouldy hay. Was this.... a stable of sort?

He tried to turn over, in an attempt to examine his surroundings. A small cave, though big enough to stand in. It's entrance almost covered in snow. 

“Well well Lord Snow. I see you've decided my company is better than an icy grave.”  
Ygritte was sitting on the other side of the fire, a smirk on her face.

“Where are my clothes?” he rasped, his throat sticking.  
“They were, wet, through.” Her mouth over playing those last two words. That look in her eyes, her gaze steady, knowing.

He closed his eyes. She had the dirtiest mouth. It seemed that every single thing that came out of it was either outright filth, or dripping with innuendo. And that accent didn't help. He'd experienced nothing like it. She was worse than Tyrion. He had no idea how to respond to it.

“Yours see just fine though.” He tried, eyeing her clothes pointedly.  
Her smirk deepened. 

“Well, they do seem a bit on the damp side. Maybe I should....” She loosed the neck ties of her shirt suggestively, and he looked away into the fire, wondered if she could see him blush.

She laughed at him, and his shame deepened. Stupid boy. Stupid stupid boy. What was he doing out here? Good for nothing bastard that he was. Why had he thought he could make it out here at the Wall, and beyond.

She got up, and went to their cloaks, drying out by the fire. Turned them so they would dry more evenly.

“Where are we?”  
“Wouldn't you like to know. You and your Crow friends” She spat, into the fire, and eyed him.

Suddenly she leaped towards him and grabbed his cheeks roughly between thumb and fingers.  
Fiercely she whispered,

“You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

She pushed his head back as she released him, and he let it fall forward to gaze at the ground. His self loathing was palpable.

“Oh poor you.” She seemed to snap. Eyes flashing fire. “Poor little lordling bastard. Had to grow up in a castle did he? Had to eat his fill and play with his toys in comfort and warmth did he?” She spat again, in his direction this time, though not actually on him.

“Well! On your feet, Lord Snow!”

The next thing he knew, she was hauling him upright by the rope, dragging him to his feet. She was re-tying him tighter, to the other ring in the wall, with his hand just above head height. His shame at his nakedness deepened.

Face to the wall!” She pushed him into the rock, her hands surprisingly hot on his skin.

He heard her moving around the cave behind him, and then a crack! Again, crack! and she laughed.

“Oh Lord Snow, what nice leather!” 

His belt.

A wave of horror washed through him. What would she do to him?

He turned his head slightly to look at her, but one hand grabbed his hair, forcing his forehead back against the wall, head down. That laugh again, and then her lips were right next to his ear.

“No peeking now. You don't want to spoil it do you?” and her hot tongue was circling his earlobe, then it was between her teeth, and she made a little growl.

A shock of pleasure ran through him like a dagger. He swallowed. She stood back.  
“Do you like it, the warmth of a woman? Or maybe you do fuck each other up there on the Wall.”

He didn't register the pain for a moment, just the crack of the belt's leather.  
He flinched, and then the message reached his brain. He arched backwards in surprise, with a sharp intake of breath.

“Do you dream of a nice warm cunt to push your cock into?” Her mouth was at his ear again, and her hand at his shoulder, then gone, and again the crack of the belt, the sting of pain.

“Or do you dream of the hot little arsehole of a fellow Crow?” Her hand on his naked hipbone this time, and he felt her pushing up against his arse, the roughness of her leather breeches and the softness of her skin above them. 

He gasped, and dropped his head down further to peer under his arm.  
He saw a smooth taunt stomach, and the gentle swell of a breast. Oh no.  
He immediately felt a stirring in his loins, and he closed his eyes again. Tried to think of his vows.  
She hit him again, harder this time, but then he felt her press her naked torso against his stinging back, as she whispered in his ear,

“A warm mouth around it, instead of your hand? A hot little tongue to lick the cum off the tip?”  
He was beginning to throb. The throb of pain, and pleasure. How was she able to do this to him?

“Do you need to be punished, Jon Snow?” her voice breathy and serious.

Yes.

“Do you need it, Jon Snow?”

Oh yes.

He was biting his lip now, as a tear ran down his cheek, though he knew it wasn't really from the physical pain. It was his pride that hurt. He had failed.

“Say it!” A crack. A gasp.

“Say it!” She grabbed his hair and wrenched back his head exposing his throat, put her teeth to his jaw.

“Do you want it, Jon Snow?”  
Another tear rolled down his cheek.

She wrapped the belt around his throat, and holding it with one hand, she ran the nails of her other hand viciously down the length of his back.

He arched back as his cock stiffened achingly. He gasped.  
One hand snaked around his torso, brushing the hairs on his stomach and rising to find a nipple. She brushed it with her finger and he shivered. 

“Say it, Jon Snow.”  
She began to tighten the belt around his throat.

“Yes.” It was barely a whisper. The sigh of defeat.

The belt cut his breathing completely. He felt her take his cock firmly in hand, as she stood pressed against him from behind, against the red welts across his back. Her fast breath against his hair, a mockery of his own strangulation. He felt the wave of shame building within him.

Then he saw stars, and came explosively, mentally reeling from the shock.

She immediately released the belt, and he gasped and choked as air rushed into his lungs. She untied the rope around his arms then too. He almost fell, weak kneed, but she caught his arm around her shoulders and lowered him down to the fur. As an exhausted sleep overtook him, he felt her curl up beside him.

“Don't worry, you precious vow is still intact.”  
Imagined the smirk on her face as she said it.

**Author's Note:**

> Another sleepless night ramble. (I hope I haven't made too many mistakes). Maybe this will improve someone else's sleepless night. If you like that sort of thing. ;-)


End file.
